We had a coal-burning furnace in the basement. There was a coal bin also in the basement. When we bought coal the men would dump it down the shoot into the coal bin. The coal bin was very dark and dirty, and mom always knew when you had been playing in the coal bin; there would be black smudges all over you. But we didn't like to play in the basement anyway. The coal would not completely burn and there would remain "clinkers" in the furnace. These had to be removed from time to time, to make room for the new coal. They were taken out (usually by my mother) with tongs or a shovel. When siting on the basement floor they gave off a pretty red glow. But I learned that clinkers were not to be touched. I understood perfectly the nursery rhyme "Little Tommy Tinker, sat on a clinker, and he began to cry, 'Mamma! Mamma!' poor little innocent guy." I believe the version of my older brothers ended with "poor little stupid guy." But it seemed to me to be a perfectly natural mistake to make once, if you were just a little guy.